


Burning Confusion

by sinnierend_kuli



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Androgyny, Burning Rescue Lio Fotia, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Misgendering, Nonbinary Lio Fotia, Post-Canon, The Promare Didn't Leave (Promare), Trans Lio Fotia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 06:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnierend_kuli/pseuds/sinnierend_kuli
Summary: Lio turns up for his first day of "work" at Burning Rescue and gains immense amusement from the fact that nobody knows how to clock him. Burning Rescue is trying their best.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	Burning Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> before yall run to the comments to crucify me about playing misgendering for laughs:
> 
> i'm the first and only [openly] trans employee in my entire organization and i'm also one of the "younger" employees, so i spend extensive amounts of time around older & middle-aged cis people and yes, they really are this fucking clueless. i'm transmasc nonbinary and i've had people assume to my face that i'm a trans girl and it's endlessly amusing to me. i have the power to cause ALL the confusion
> 
> (in which lio fotia's first day of work is based off my own experiences and being a nonbinary person so thoroughly androgynous that people can't clock you is a thrilling experience)

Lio doesn't know these people. He knows _of_ them, through Galo, and his “memories” of them have an artificial veneer of familiarity, rubbed off on him from melding momentarily with Galo in the Galo de Lion. He’s got on Galo’s Burning Rescue jacket because god knows the man never wears it himself, and Lio desires a little less conspicuous appearance in the days following his widely-televised preliminary court hearing. The judge had been merciful and recognized Lio’s critical role in stopping Kray—unquestionably the worse actor in the picture—but firmly insisted Lio had to face justice for his rampant single-handed destruction of downtown Promepolis, and his yet-unanswered past criminal record. She’d given Lio pretrial probation and sent him off to the bureaucratic nightmare of the Probation Department. In the end, he’d emerged with a laundry list of conditions and restrictions that had been eased substantially from their initial form by Captain Ignis Ex calling in to the meeting and offering to vouch for Lio.

So now it’s Monday morning and Lio is standing in the doorway of Burning Rescue Station 3, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his borrowed, over-sized jacket, staring at a crew of faces he knows and doesn’t at the same time. Galo, the only person he feels remotely close to, is standing by his side. He longs fiercely for the familiar strengthening presences of Meis and Gueira, but one of his PTP conditions had been keeping away from them outside of supervised meetings. He’s small and alone and uncomfortable, but it’s far from the worst he’s faced.

Lio squares his shoulders and keeps his face neutral.

“This is Lio Fotia,” Galo says unnecessarily, but Lio can’t say he doesn’t appreciate the gesture. He dips his head in acknowledgment. “That’s Remi, he’s the lieutenant—”

“Puguna,” Remi cuts in. Lio dips his head at him too.

“Captain Ignis, you know him,” Galo points. “Aina Ardebit, Lucia Fex, Varys Truss.”

Lio nods at each in turn. He knows Aina’s sister received far harsher treatment than he did, and that he received even harsher treatment at her hands. There’s no love there, but he reminds himself to be civil. Aina shouldn’t have to answer for her sister’s crimes. Galo’s impressions of his crewmates, transplanted into Lio’s mind, tell him that Lucia is a troublemaker and comrade-in-arms with a good sense of humor, and that Varys is good-natured and a solid mentor. He knows Remi is by the book but fiercely dedicated to his job and crew, and that Ignis takes a very paternal view of his team.

“Tell us a fun fact, why don’t’cha?” Lucia says and at once Lio is grateful for the break in the heavy silence but struggling not to squirm under the weight of the attention.

There are no _fun_ facts about Lio. He wracks his brain, gaze turning inward, and all he can come up with is his heavy, twisted life story and his Burnish abilities—both are heavily verboten. He doesn’t have any foreign language skills, his life effectively ended at his Awakening before he could acquire any showy hobbies, and they all saw him ride a motorcycle in his fight against them. Worked into a mental corner, the panic builds up until he says:

“I’m trans.”

The crew looks at him a moment and Lio does not elaborate, wishing instead that he could somehow suck those words out of the air where they’re hanging obtusely. Then they all nod and mutter affirmations, stating how ‘cool’ they are with that. Then the impromptu meeting disperses. Ignis approaches.

“Galo, you know what you’ve got to do. I’m going to show Lio around,” the captain dismisses Galo, and Lio immediately misses his presence. “Lio, right? That’s okay?”

“Yes,” Lio says, blandly confused. They all knew his name well before Galo introduced him.

“Okay, great,” Ignis says. “This is the garage, where we keep the vehicles and the mechs. See those catwalks up there? That’s where the offices, break room, kitchen, and bunk room are. That’s where you’re gonna be. These guys all hang out in the garage for the most part. Lockers are down here, too.” Ignis points at everything in turn, and Lio nods silently. He follows Ignis up the metal stairs that rattle under their footfalls. High up in the garage, Lio peers over the railing at the monstrous engine, the size of a medium airplane, and marvels at how different it looks close up, like a sleeping giant. He’s seen so many engines like it, all over the country, but never been this close to one outside a combat function where they’re actively firing ice cannons at him. It’s eerie. Lio’s on edge, waiting for the jump scare, the ice.

“C’mon,” Ignis says, waving a hand and pulling Lio away from the edge. “This is my office,” the captain gestures as they stride down the noisy catwalk, “this is Remi’s, and this is the spare. It’s yours now.” He flips on the lights and Lio steps inside. The walls are office-standard beige, the lighting orangey fluorescent, the desk and chair and computer bog-standard. Lio nods. “Have a seat.”

Anxiety blooms in Lio’s gut. He sits in the computer chair, swiveling around to face Ignis, who leans in the doorway with his arms crossed. He takes his sunglasses off, his pale blue eyes startling Lio and pinning him in place. He speaks in a low, serious voice.

“Listen, kid, Lio, I don’t want to give you the shovel talk. I saw you in court. They hit you over the head pretty hard with it. I know you’re smart, you know what’s going on. That’s why I stepped in. Because what you did was the right thing, in the end. I just wanna help you out.” Ignis takes a breath. “But I’m responsible for you now, and I know you didn’t tell the PO everything. So I need to know right now, are you still Burnish?”

Lio feels like he’s swallowed ice. “Yes,” he says quietly, meeting Ignis’s eyes evenly.

“Okay,” Ignis mutters. “How much?”

“I don’t know,” Lio admits. It’s not quite the truth, but it’s about as much as he’s willing to say. “The Promare feel different now, but I still feel them.”

“Could you command them? Burn things?”

This is starting to feel more and more like an interrogation, and Lio is no stranger to those. “Yes,” he says again. Ignis nods and hums.

“Do you want to burn things?”

Lio’s gaze drops from Ignis’s down to his hands. He focuses internally on the feeling of his fire. It feels calm, like banked embers, barely whispering to itself, hardly audible to Lio. “No,” he says finally.

“Okay,” Ignis says, letting that one word hang in the air for several long moments. “I know you’re a good… person. You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes,” Lio said staidly.

“Okay. And… just to let you know, so that we’re both on the same page, here, I’ll know if you use your fire,” Ignis says. It’s not delivered like a threat, but Lio can’t help but receive it as such. He unclips a pager from his belt and holds it up. “This is a Burnish flare detector. Flares have a very distinct electromagnetic signature and this is far from the only detector in this building. Just so you know exactly how it works, make a little flame.”

Lio looks at Ignis sideways. “This feels like a trap,” he says warily.

“It’s not. Won’t leave this room,” Ignis says, still holding the little black plastic pod in his hand. Dubiously, Lio stokes his fire and the Promare responds joyfully, waking under his touch and flooding his body with heat that feels like _home._ He shepherds it down his arm and up into his palms where it erupts in small, dancing flames. Lio smiles at them; he hasn’t seen his flames since the Parnassus crash, when the Promare withdrew and went dormant, either recovering or mourning or both.

And just like that—Lio barely has time to love his little flames before the detector in Ignis’s palm lets out a shrill screech and chirps _“flare detected”_ in a robotic voice. Lio folds his flames back into himself, feeling their disappointment at being confined again, and he tries to soothe them gently. The detector keeps shrieking until Ignis presses a button and silences it.

“So now you know,” Ignis says.

“It’s fast,” Lio agrees.

“It is.” Ignis clips the detector to his belt again. “It has a range of two-fifty yards, so it’ll reach anywhere in the firehouse. And, take this as you will, it only detects erupted flares.”

“Erupted…?” Lio echoes, but Ignis doesn’t elaborate. It’s got to be something that Lio knows under a different name; the differences between Burnish and non-Burnish. Then it clicks: free flares. When the Burnish unleash the Promare outside the confines of their bodies, so the flares can grow hotter and brighter and more lively. That means he can call up his fires as much as he wants inside his body, as long as the flames don’t reach open air. Lio tucks this information away.

Ignis then steers the conversation towards what Lio is to do for Burning Rescue. It amounts to mundane office busywork, but Lio is fine with that. It’s better than the alternatives. It doesn’t take long to explain his task, to get him set up on the computer. It’s been years since Lio’s used a computer, actually, but his old administrative assistant skills come right back. As he looks over the documents he’s working on, his mind wanders slightly, and he realizes he can hear the conversations down in the garage clear as a bell.

His scrolling slows and he settles back in his chair, staring blankly at the computer screen as he eavesdrops.

“Well, what do _you_ think she wants to be called?” a woman asks—Aina. Lucia’s voice is too distinct to be mistaken

“She would’ve told us if she wanted us to call her anything else,” a man responds. Remi, maybe?

“You guys are _all wrong,”_ Lucia says. “You’re supposed to call them by what they’re _going_ to be, not what they _are.”_

“Yeah, I know that,” Aina rebuts. “That’s why I’m saying _she.”_

“I don’t think so, guys,” Galo cuts in. “Pretty sure he’s a guy.”

“Yeah, who’s transitioning to be a girl. Why else would he say he’s trans?” maybe-Remi says.

“Maybe he’s already become a guy,” Galo says.

Lio rolls his chair backwards into the doorway, leaning over to try to get a glimpse of the group.

“No, but we all saw him shirtless!” Aina protests. “He didn’t have any—y’know—he was flat!”

“Did he have any scars?” Lucia asks.

“Nah,” Galo says.

It dawns on Lio at that moment they’re talking about _him. They can’t figure out if he’s trans masculine or trans feminine._ Lio claps his hands over his mouth to stifle a laugh and stands, creeping carefully out onto the metal grating of the catwalk to keep it from making noise. Leaning on the railing, he can see the crew grouped around the lockers conferring.

“Did anybody see if he had a bulge?” a new man cuts in, probably Varys.

“Ew, Varys! Perv!” Aina squeals.

“You were just talking about his boobs!” Varys fires back.

“Galo?” Lucia asks.

“I dunno!” Galo throws his hands up in the air. “I kinda had other things on my mind!”

“Make a chart,” Remi says. He disappears behind the engine, out of Lio’s line of sight, and reappears with a whiteboard on a stand. Luckily for Lio, he positions the whiteboard so Lio can read it. Lio settles in, resting his chin on his arms and cocking a hip, to watch the show unfold. Remi draws a T chart and labels the left half “GUY” and the right half “GIRL” and immediately, the crew breaks out squabbling. Lio grins.

“What do you mean ‘guy’?” Aina asks. “What he is or what he’s going to be?”

“Don’t you mean ‘she’?” Lucia cuts in.

“Isn’t she both a guy and a girl both ways?” Varys asks, and gets mutters of agreement.

“Okay, fine,” Remi capitulates, and scribbles ‘going to be’ above each term. Lio muffles a snort in his sleeves, knowing any sound he makes will carry and give himself away. Not to mention the neon jacket would make him a beacon in the dark metal of the garage. “Arguments that he’s going to be a guy.”

“Which would mean he’s a girl now?” Varys asks.

“No, he’s always a guy, but just… starting as a girl,” Lucia struggles.

“Okay, well then, everything,” Varys says.

“Everything?” Remi echoes.

“Yeah. Long poofy hair, pretty, really short, high voice. Hips.” Varys lists off. Remi writes that under the ‘going to be GUY’ category.

“Okay, but, her voice is pretty deep, actually, and maybe she’s like halfway through changing?” Aina argues. Remi writes it down under the ‘going to be GIRL’ category.

“She could totally be transitioned,” Lucia says, looking up from her phone. The awkward way she says ‘transitioned’ tells Lio she just looked the term up. Remi writes down ‘transitioned’ on the board. “That’d explain why she doesn’t have boobs.”

“What if she got them removed though?” Varys argues.

“Scars!”

“Galo?”

“I’m telling you guys, I didn’t see any scars!”

“That’s right,” Lucia says like it’s an epiphany. “Burnish healing factor. She wouldn’t have any scars anyways.”

“Okay, but it really seems like he’s got a girl body,” Varys says.

“That doesn’t say anything either way,” Aina says.

“I’m saying he feels like a guy,” Galo insists.

“Did he say that?” Remi asks, marker poised.

“Well, no, but—”

“Then we can’t put that down,” Remi says.

“I know! But why would he call himself Lio if he wanted to be a girl?” Galo argues.

“Maybe she hasn’t changed her name yet,” Aina says.

“Or he’s already changed it,” Galo fires back.

“Well, how old even is he?” Aina asks.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Varys cuts in.

“If he’s really young he couldn’t have changed it and that means he’s a girl,” Aina says. Lio huffs a little concealed laugh.

“He looks like a kid,” Varys says. Lio bites the inside of his cheek.

“What the hell are they shouting about?” Ignis asks, making Lio jump. He turns and looks at the captain, leaned on the catwalk railing four feet away.

“They’re trying to figure out if I’m a trans man or a trans woman,” Lio says with a smirk.

Ignis looks at him over the top of his glasses, eyebrows raised. Lio just smiles blithely. “I see how it is,” Ignis says lightly. The group devolves into an out-and-out fight, complete with waving arms and Lucia snatching for the marker while Remi holds it above her head. “Want to go have some pity on my dumb kids?”

Lio considers it. “If you silence the detector for a minute,” he says. Ignis arches an eyebrow. “Trust me?”

Ignis unclips the detector and smothers it in his palm, then jerks his chin. Lio leaps up onto the railing, crouched and balanced on the balls of his feet. The height of the railing thrills him and he calls his Promare up again; it responds eagerly, bounding through his body to his hands where he needs it. Then he pushes off quietly and falls, the air whipping his jacket around him, and at the last second he looses his fire through his palms, arresting his fall and settling his feet silently down on the ground on the other side of the engine. The crew is still arguing on the other side. Lio looks up four storeys and nods at Ignis.

Nonchalantly, hands in pockets, Lio makes his way around the front of the engine and comes up on the group. Varys is the first one to notice him and goes still, his dark face reddening. Quickly, everyone else’s heads whip around and the group freezes with mortification. Lio saunters up to them, wends his way between them, feeling their embarrassed gazes on him like a physical weight. They’re gawking at him like he’s a ghost. He walks straight up to Remi and holds one hand out for the marker.

Remi puts the marker in his hand. Lio steps up to the whiteboard, considers everything written in both columns, chuckles under his breath, then reaches up and holds the chisel-tip black marker poised fatefully over the category headings. He throws a glance over his shoulder, seeing everyone’s eyes glued to the marker, waiting with bated breath for an answer. Lio presses the marker tip to the board. Someone sucks in a breath.

Lio draws a big circle around both category headings, then writes “he/him, they/them” in the center. He caps the marker and drops it into the whiteboard tray, stuffs his hand back in his pocket, and turns around to face the crew.

“Well?” he asks, smirking.

“That…” someone says softly. Lio raises his eyebrows. “Okay,” they mutter.

“If you want to know what’s in my pants,” he says, “ask me. But only if you’re planning on going down on me.”

“ _Galo,”_ someone coughs under their breath and Galo, beet red, squawks indignantly. Lio winks at him. The firefighter looks like he’s having a cardiac event.

“Google,” Lio announces, “is your friend. Figure out how to ask the questions, then ask me. I don’t bite.”

Then he leaves and manages to get all the way around to the other side of the engine before succumbing to the giggles. He _knows_ they can hear him because of the garage acoustics, and somehow that makes him laugh even harder, echoing through the cavernous space. Galo rounds the corner behind Lio and finds him doubled over and leaning on one of the engine’s huge wheels for support.

“Bwuh?” Galo says and that sends Lio into a new riot of laughter.

“It’s like watching ducklings try to conceptualize space flight,” Lio barks out between fits of giggles.

“You’re not gonna clarify?” Galo asks pathetically. Lio straightens up a bit and wipes his eyes, still smiling hugely. He shakes his head.

“I feel so powerful,” he says. Galo pulls puppy-dog eyes and Lio relents a little. “Fine, I’m trans masculine.” Galo tilts his head, even more puppy-like. Lio laughs. “No! I told you to google it and I meant it!”

“Fine,” Galo says. “You’re not mad at us?”

“No,” Lio snorts. “After all the shit I’ve been through, that’s the least important thing on my plate to be mad about. It’s funny.”

“We’re sorry,” Lucia says, appearing behind Galo.

“What for?” Lio asks, putting his hands on his hips. She shrugs. “I told you my pronouns, just use them and we’re square.”

Lucia nods.

“Oh, and for the record, the only thing I’m ‘going to be’ is a free man after my court date,” Lio says, and Galo whoops loudly, the rest of the crew cheering with him.


End file.
